


Captain Fine and Dr. Reid: A Love Story

by zams



Series: Drabble Series [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Crossover, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-09
Updated: 2011-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zams/pseuds/zams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>As a general rule, Chris doesn’t often socialize with the fans—they get scary. But he just may make an exception for Dr. Reid.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain Fine and Dr. Reid: A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my [Drabble Series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/7491). Written for one of my best friends and my lovely beta, **Taylor**. She basically asked for 'Chris Pine/Spencer Reid; meeting in a bar and playing darts.'
> 
> To help me with this fic, Taylor wrote a few hundred words to get me started. Using the words she gave me as a prompt, I edited and expanded them into the fic below. Some of the words/phrases in this fic are therefore hers and not mine.

\---

Chris lives by the adage 'Curiosity killed the cat.'

It's the only reason why he's currently playing darts (and losing spectacularly) to a guy who introduced himself not even ten minutes earlier as Dr. Spencer Reid, awkwardly nodded as he addressed Chris as “Captain,” and asked if he could join Chris’ solitary darts game. Alarm bells were blasting by the time the introduction was over, and Chris was wary; nerds approached him all the time and they usually turned out to be two fries short of a happy meal.

As a general rule, Chris doesn’t often socialize with the fans—they get scary. Sure, he knows there are 'normal' fans, but he always seems to get accosted by the _other_ kinds of fans; the fans that actually want to _be_ him and claim to know everything about him and are the webmaster of unofficial Chris Pine websites, or the ones who profess their undying love and ask Chris to impregnate them.

But like a cat who doesn't realize trying to squeeze into the tiny space under the couch is a bad idea, Chris ignored all the warnings, ignored all the precedent and threw caution to the wind. He must have been drunker than he thought if he brushed off the "Captain" comment, flashed a cocky smile at the guy, and said, “All right, dude. But when I kick your ass, you’re buying me a drink.”

See, Chris is a master of rationalization of bad ideas. He told himself that the guy didn't seem like his usual fan. First, he actually made eye contact when he came over. Big point in his favor right there and all the more reason to give him a chance, right? Right. And it didn’t look like he followed Chris to this bar from his hotel, either. Plus, excepting the hesitating introduction, he wasn't blushing or stuttering or looking at Chris like he was god or something and the guy wanted to worship at Chris' alter (not that Chris would necessarily be opposed to that if things ended up working out in a certain way... The guy was gorgeous).

Chris thought that he'd immediately agree, but Dr. Reid paused before answering. “And if I win…” he said, flashing his hands open like a magician, thin fingers spread wide, “you tell me all your secrets.”

Chris was too busy laughing to take him seriously and he agreed without thinking about it. There was no way this guy would beat Chris at darts.

Dr. Reid looked delighted, and then the bastard threw three bull's-eyes in a row.

Which explains why Chris is staring with wide eyes and a gob smacked expression on his face at the three darts neatly in a row in the bull's eye. How the fuck did he _do_ that? Zach is a master of darts (the only one who's ever beaten him) and Chris doesn't think he's ever seen Zach do _that_.

"What…?" He turns back to Dr. Reid, who's watching him with an almost smug look.

"So about those secrets, Captain," he says, and Chris can tell he's trying really hard not to laugh.

Chris finally gets a hold of himself and shakes off his shock. Eyes narrowing, he looks Dr. Reid up and down critically. He thought he had the guy pegged as a typical geek: above-average-to-high intelligence, slightly socially awkward, and a _Star Trek_ fan boy.

Clearly there's more to him than what meets the eye. Chris' interest is piqued now; he'll have to re-evaluate.

His eyes flick past Dr. Reid over to the far corner where his group is sitting at a table. Chris noticed them before, actually, when he walked into the bar, hoodie pulled up in what he fashioned his “incognito look." The seven of them were sitting around the table, drinking, talking, and laughing.

When you spend as much time in shitty bars as Chris does, you get adept at recognizing the specific types of people that come in: grumpy middle-aged men complaining about their wives over beer; young, professional women dressed in crisp, pressed suits; rowdy college kids looking to get drunk; happy hour accountant groups letting loose.

Dr. Reid's group isn't any of those. They're different, an anomaly, and Chris can't help but be interested; natural curiosity gets him into these types of situations. It’s like he was a detective in his previous life, but one of those dumbass ones that get shot when they rush off after the mob boss, half-cocked, guns blazing, and without back-up, and then die in a bloody puddle in an abandoned warehouse.

Going by physical appearance only, they obviously aren’t related, yet they act like a family. Their ease and comfort with each other is obvious even from a distance. And though Chris has no reason to think this, a certain vibe from them doesn't point to a typical office group, even if they're dressed in button-up shirts, jackets, and slacks.

Well, all of them except for Dr. Reid. He's dressed like an eccentric history professor in a sweater vest over a button-up and tie, khakis, Converse, and thick, black-rimmed glasses.

Just who the hell is this guy? And did Chris mention he has a certain weakness for glasses, especially big, thick-rimmed ones like that?

"You hustled me," he blurts out, and then he winces at how accusing he sounds. Not exactly smooth.

Dr. Reid just laughs. "I didn't. You made an assumption based on my physical appearance that proved to be wrong."

Chris can't really argue with that, even if sounds bad when Dr. Reid says it.

"I only asked to play," Dr. Reid points out. "You didn't have to agree to my terms." He leans closer. "And now you can take your turn, or you can forfeit this game and go ahead and pay up. I'd suggest the second option, personally."

It may just be the alcohol talking, but Chris would swear there's insinuation in Dr. Reid's voice. That's different; he's usually the one doing the picking-up. He can't remember the last time _he_ was on the receiving end (and yes, in all ways).

So, it's kind of exciting. And Dr. Reid is interesting, plainly intelligent, and attractive to boot. It's not often that Chris scores a hat trick in a random bar. He'd be stupid to pass this up.

There's really only one thing in the way. "If offer to pay off my debt over a drink, will I get roughed up by the guy glaring at me from behind you? I'm pretty fond of my face, so as much as I'd like to buy you that drink, I don't want to give that guy incentive to break it."

Dr. Reid doesn't even look surprised. "Ignore him," he says without turning around or asking for clarification. "He's harmless, really."

Chris isn't so sure about that. If he were the type to get scared by big, muscled men who are scowling and clearly _not happy_ , he'd be pissing his pants right now. "Promise he's not your boyfriend?"

Dr. Reid laughs again, looking genuinely amused by the idea. "Morgan? Absolutely not. Annoying older brother, don't worry."

That may actually be worse, but playing Kirk's rubbed off on him a little bit; he likes to live dangerously. It spices things up.

"Well, then," he says, stepping closer to Dr. Reid and bringing their faces just inches apart. Caution's long since sailed. "Can I buy you a drink, Dr. Reid?" He doesn't even try to hide the suggestion in his tone. "I have a lot of secrets so this might take a while. You should be prepared to give me all night." He smirks, deliberately staring at Dr. Reid's lips for several seconds. "My honor's at stake here. I have to be sure I tell you all my secrets."

"Hmm," Dr. Reid murmurs. He slowly looks Chris up and down, eyes just barely lingering on his groin.

Chris has to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. Is it hot in here, or what?

When Dr. Reid drags his eyes back up to Chris' face, for a second, Chris thinks Dr. Reid's going to kiss him right here, right now, audience be dammed. But the moment passes and Dr. Reid just says, "Throw in an autographed photo, Captain, and you have a deal," before he turns around and walks toward the bar.

Halfway there, he pauses, and turns his head to the side. "I like gin and tonic," he says over his shoulder and continues walking.

Chris whistles quietly. Damn, that's hot. Chris watches him go, eyes dropping low to check out his ass and feeling no shame about it. Well, his night's certainly looking up. Definitely was the right decision to play darts with him, even Dr. Reid kicked his ass.

Feeling bold, he tosses a smirk and a wink to Dr. Reid's glaring co-worker (Chris wants to laugh at the look of complete outrage on the man's face, but he thinks he's tempted fate enough tonight), and he joins Dr. Reid the bar, sliding up close to him so that their shoulders are nearly touching.

"Gin and tonic, right?" Chris says, motioning the bartender over. "I think I can handle that."

Dr. Reid raises an eyebrow. "We'll see," he says, sounding like he doesn’t quite believe it, but he's smiling, and Chris smiles back. He'll have fun showing Dr. Reid how good he is at _this_.

\---


End file.
